“Darling Jennechka, really, it’s not worth while ...  A life like any life ...  I went to boarding school; was a governess; sang in a choir; then kept a shooting gallery in a summer garden; and then got mixed up with a certain charlatan and taught myself to shoot with a Winchester ...  I traveled with circuses—­I represented an American Amazon.  I used to shoot splendidly ...  Then I found myself in a monastery.  There I passed two years ...  I’ve been through a lot ...  Can’t recall everything ...  I used to steal...”

“You’ve lived through a great deal ...  Checkered-like.”

“But then, my years are not a few.  Well, what do you think—­how many?”

“Twenty-two, twenty-four? ...”

“No, my angel!  It just struck thirty-two a week ago.  I, if you like, am older than all of you here in Anna Markovna’s.  Only I didn’t wonder at anything, didn’t take anything near to heart.  As you see, I never drink ...  I occupy myself very carefully with the care of rny body; and the main thing, the very main thing—­I don’t allow myself ever to be carried away with men...”

“Well, but what about your Senka? ...”

“Senka—­that’s a horse of another colour; the heart of woman is foolish, inconsistent ...  Can it possibly live without love?  And even so, I don’t love him, but just so ... a self-deception ...  But, however, I shall be in very great need of Senka soon.”

Jennka suddenly grew animated and looked at her friend with curiosity.

“But how did you come to get stuck right here, in this hole?  So clever, handsome, sociable...”

“I’d have to take a long time in telling it ...  And then I’m too lazy ...  I got in here out of love; I got mixed up with a certain young man and went into a revolution with him.  For we always act so, we women:  where the dearie is looking, there we also look; what the dearie sees, that we also see ...  I didn’t believe at soul in his work, but I went.  A flattering man he was; smart, a good talker, a good looker ...  Only he proved to be a skunk and a traitor afterwards.  He played at revolution; while he himself gave his comrades away to the gendarmes.  A stool-pigeon, he was.  When they had killed and shown him up, then all the foolishness left me.  However, it was necessary to conceal myself ...  I changed my passport.  Then they advised me, that the easiest thing of all was to screen myself with a yellow ticket ...  And then the fun began! ...  And even here I’m on a sort of pasture ground; when the time comes, the successful moment arrives—­I’ll go away!”

“Where?” asked Jennie with impatience.

“The world is large ...  And I love life! ...  There, now, I was the same way in the convent:  I lived on and I lived on; sang antiphonies and dulias, until I had rested up, and had finally grown weary of it; and then all at once—­hop! and into a cabaret ...  Wasn’t that some jump?  The same way out of here ...  I’ll get into a theatre, into a circus, into a corps de ballet ... but do you know, Jennechka, I’m drawn to the thieving trade the most, after all ...  Daring, dangerous, hard, and somehow intoxicating ...  It’s drawing me! ...  Don’t you mind that I’m so respectable and modest, and can appear an educated young lady.  I’m entirely, entirely different.”